Stuffed
by megtheegg99
Summary: In Chesterville, Ohio, someone- or something- is killing people, emptying them, and filling their body cavities with cotton stuffing. Sam and Dean must figure out what is behind this and then hunt it down.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first attempt at a fanfiction! All comments and reviews are greatly appreciated. I love constructive criticism and second opinions! I am super over critical about my writing and my friend had to talk me into posting this (I usually write something then instantly delete it!) :) Thank you!****  
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**Disclaimer: I see everybody is writing a disclaimer so I will as well, I do NOT own anything Supernatural. Please note that this applies to everything in this story. **

**Have a nice day! **

**Chapter 1:**

"Could you be any less productive?" Sam sarcastically asked Dean as he leafed through recent articles on his laptop.

"Yes." Dean replied trying to act completely serious. Dean smiled and rolled into his back to continue watching awful daytime television. He yawned in exhaustion, they had just finished up their last case and Dean was up all night in a small bar trying to drink away the memories of Sam being ripped apart and then was forcefully fed to him on a spoon. Thankfully it was just a trickster ripping apart a dummy version Sam, feeding Dean air, but the lasting memory lingered. Even though he knew Sam was ok and alive for now, last night he was a train wreck. Dean longed for sleep but knew if he fell asleep, Sam would know that he snuck out last night. And with Sam being Sam, he would get to the bottom of it all. That was one thing Dean could not have, ever since their dad's death, Sam has tried to get Dean to open up about his feelings. If Sam knew what the trickster did to him, that would just cause Sam to bug him even more about it. Dean pushed away those thoughts and rested his eyes for a moment. As Dean just started to doze off, Sam startled him awake.

"I found something!" Sam exclaimed. Dean sat up and tried to look awake as Sam filled him in.

"There has been several murders in a Ohio town called Chesterville." Sam explained. "I thought it was a run of the mill serial killer, that is until I read that their insides were gone and replaced with- get this- cotton. Dean, I really think we should check this out."

"It's probably just some psychopath who took his stuffed animal obsession to the next level." Dean joked, trying to convince Sam it was not worth their time.

"Dean, please. this does not seem like the work of a human. No lacerations were found on the body, whatever did this, didn't need to cut them open first. Please, it won't hurt to just find out what's going on."

Dean was reluctant to go on another hunt, he just wanted a day to recuperate and not have to worry about Sam being killed. But something was intriguing about this hunt, he couldn't pinpoint what. Dean decided to go see what this case is all about and deal with what he was going through the only way he knew how, hunting. "Let's go catch this son of a bitch." He grumbled, standing up and packing up to leave. He could catch up on sleep later, he gone longer than this without rest

They were completely packed up and had checked out of the motel within three minutes. After the years of practice, the duo had gotten quick at packing and making sure they forgot nothing. Leaving behind even a bullet could cause a police investigation and expose their recent whereabouts. Police have been hunting Dean down for several murders he didn't commit and Dean did not want to go to jail again. They climbed into the Impala and began the 19 hour drive to Chesterville.

Dean's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. He had driven for about three hours and was afraid he would fall asleep at the wheel. He knew he should probably let Sam drive for a while, but that would only prove how tired he really was. He glanced over to see what Sam was doing, research, of course. Dean gripped the steering wheel even tighter, trying not to pass out. His stomach growled and remembered that along with not sleeping for almost 50 hours, he had also not eaten. The trickster had chained him up in an underground tunnel, left him there for a while, and only returned to rip "Sam" to pieces and force feed the imaginary Sam to him. Once the real Sam came to rescue him, he was almost slipping into unconsciousness. Sam dragged him back to the motel and tried to get him to eat or sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashback of the life leaving Sam's eyes as his the assailant ripped the skin from his bones. He heard Sam scream in pain and then silence. He felt too sick to his stomach to eat from the memory of Sam's salty blood being forced down his throat. Dean pushed those thoughts away and tried to focus on the road ahead. The two lanes seemed to merge into one and Dean slipped into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Dean's head was pounding when woke up. He slowly opened up his eyes a little to see if he crashed the car. There was only one problem, he was not in the car. He was laying on the gravely asphalt. He looked up and saw Sam kneeling over him. Once Dean made eye contact, Sam's worried expression slightly faded. "Dean! Dean! Can you hear me?" Sam asked his brother. The words felt like a hammer pounding inside his skull and forced Dean to close his eyes.

Dean finally mustered up the strength to open his eyes again. It hurt like hell but Dean kept them open this time. "I am fine," he told Sam, "let's go."

"How about we hit the hospital first, you just passed out and crashed your car."

"I said I am fine!" Dean told him more forcefully this time. Sam backed away slightly. "How's my baby?" Dean asked, clearly more concerned about the car than himself.

Sam smiled, the first thing Dean wanted to make sure was that his car was ok. "It's only a little dented, your baby will be fine." Sam assured him. Sam helped Dean up and led him over to the Impala, bashed against a telephone pole. As Dean started to climb into the driver's seat, Sam quickly led him away. "It's my turn to drive." Before Dean could protest, Sam opened the back seat door and shoved Dean in. By the time Sam opened the door to the driver's seat, Dean was asleep.

_His arms hung him from the wall, chained above him, at least was low enough that he could stand. Dean tried to pass the time with some sleep but when he closed his eyes, he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. It was probably some spell, he thought, used to weaken the captive. A dark shadow was at the doorway. The unknown figure dragged in another man. Probably just someone else he wanted to torture. They stepped into a puddle of light and Dean saw clearly who the captive was, Sam. Dean felt his heart plummet as the assailant shoved Sam closer to Dean. He shoved Sam about an arm's length away from Dean and then did the unimaginable. He slowly peeled of Sam's skin, starting with his arm. He peeled it off of the bone. Sam's screams echoed through the dark corridor. Dean thrashed against the wall, screaming in anguish, and rattled the chains in a frenzied attempt to help Sam. The assailant stripped his entire arm down to the bone, dropping the bloody remains into a large basin. The assailant then moved on to his chest cavity, ripping out every one of Sam's organs, until the screaming subsided and Sam was all but a heap in the middle of the floor. Sam was dead. Dean felt tears running down his face, but he didn't care. The iron tang of blood filled his mouth- he must have bitten his tongue while he was screaming. "You son of a bitch!" He howled. "You killed my brother! You-" The realization hit him, really hit him. Sammy was gone. He failed his only purpose in life, to protect his brother. Now he was dead. His brother was dead. He failed his father's orders, he lost the last of his family, he was alone. Dean's head dropped to his chest, shuddering sobs shaking his frame, his mind full of pain and grief._

_"Open wide." The assailant took a spoon out of one of his tweed jacket pockets. He then scooped out some of Sam's blood from the basin. He approached Dean and forced it into his mouth. Dean felt the blood coat his teeth and tongue. It was still warm. He wanted to spit it out but he was unable. There was only one way out, to swallow it. The salty, thick liquid slithered down his throat. Dean gagged as it went down, but couldn't stop from swallowing it. It was like the assailant had complete control over him. He swallowed it and coughed, tears dripping down his cheeks and from his chin, blending with Sam's blood. Dean was helpless and drifting to unconsciousness from lack of sleep, food, and the pain of being forced to eat his own brother. The assailant dipped another spoonful and was about to put into Dean's mouth when a bloodied stake plunged into the back of the assailant, spearing his heart. Dean looked over in disbelief seeing that Sammy was alive, that Sam had killed the assailant._

_Sam used a paperclip to pick the locks on Dean's wrists and when Dean was free from chains, he collapsed to the ground. Sam dragged him up, "Come on Dean! Lets go!" Sam tried to drag him across the floor. "Come on! We have to go!" Dean stumbled as Sam dragged him to safety. "It was only a trickster Dean. Only an f-ed up trickster!" Sam's words echoed through his head Sam dragged him to the safety of the Impala. "Only an f-ed up trickster."_

Dean woke up in the back of the Impala. He felt considerably better being that he had slept, but the pit of hunger still made him light-headed and nauseous. He sat up and saw that it was daytime. How long had he been out? He looked up and saw that Sam had not yet crashed his baby. Sam glanced back in the backseat and their eyes met.

"You were only out for about 15 hours. We are only an hour away from Chesterville." Said Sam, answering Dean's unspoken questions. "You really needed the sleep. How do you feel?"

"I am starving!" Dean replied, "Lets go get burgers!"

They drove about five minutes until they saw a roadside diner on the side of the road. "Lets eat here." Dean said, clearly famished.

Sam, pulled into a parking spot in the empty lot and stopped the car. They climbed out and walked into the diner.

"Would you guys like a table or a booth?" Asked the waitress when they walked through the door.

"A booth." Sam replied. The waitress led them to an empty booth. She gave them some menus and left to go tend to another customer. They looked over the menu for a few minutes and both knew what they would like to eat. Just then the waiter came over, like she was reading their minds.

"I will have four burgers." Dean said. Sam widened his eyes and looked curiously at his brother. Then he ordered himself some eggs.

Once the waitress left Sam asked him, "Why did you order so many burgers?"

"Because I am secretly a chipmunk and my stash is getting low!" Dean replied sarcastically. "Why do you think? I haven't eaten in like two days!" As they were waiting for their food, Dean's foot tapped impatiently. Trying to make the time go by faster while the food was coming, Dean asked Sam, "Soooo... while I was gone, did you bang anyone new?"

"No Dean, I did not! I mainly spent the time looking for you! Why would you even ask that?"

"Because that's what I would have done." Dean said with a smile. Sam rolled his eyes and smiled. His brother was back to his usual crude self. The waitress finally came back and placed the food down in front of them. The second his burgers hit the table, Dean grabbed one and shoved it into his mouth. Sam looked at him with disapproval and politely waited until the waitress left to eat his eggs.

Within ten minutes, they were back in the Impala, almost to their destination. As they drove closer and closer, they looked out the window at potential motels they could stay at. Just past the Welcome to Chesterville sign, they saw the The Chesterville Inn. Dean, who had earlier convinced Sam to let him drive, pulled into an empty parking spot in the motel lot. They got out of the car and walked over to the door marked with a Front Desk sign. They walked in and up to the counter at the edge of the small room.

"Hi. Can we check out a room?" Sam asked the plump woman at the counter.

She looked from Sam to Dean and then gave them a small smile. "Ahhh, new love. Are you guys here on a romantic getaway?" Dean started to laugh a little causing Sam to elbow him in the ribs.

"No we are not, we are-" Sam was telling her before she interrupted him.

"There is nothing for you to ashamed of sweetie," she said, smiling sympathetically. "Be proud of who you are!"

"Yeah Honey!" Dean said, patting Sam's back heartily before quickly walking out of the room and bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Sam followed briefly after checking out a room with two queens, despite the pep talk he had been given by the enthusiastic lady at the counter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

They walked into the motel room. Dean put his stuff on the bed closest to the door, as he had always done (if a threat came in during the night, Dean would be first in the line of fire). Sam put his stuff on the bed remaining next to the window. Dean locked eyes with Sam, and then asked, "What are we dealing with?"

"I'm not sure yet. I looked up some local history and nothing really jumped out as suspicious. I was thinking if we started at the morgue, we could at least see the aftermath." The duo left the motel room and locked the door behind them. Once they got in the car and started to drive toward the morgue, Dean started to smile, that escalated to chuckling slightly, then full-out laughing. "What is so funny?" Dean shook his head, collected himself, and told Sam he would find out later.

The parked at the hospital and walked in through the double doors.

"May I help you?' The secretary asked.

"Yes ma'am. Can you point us into towards the morgue."

"Identification please." Dean handed her two cards from inside of his jacket pocket. "Oh you two are the morticians we have waited for." Sam's eyes widened and he gave Dean a look of disbelief. Dean used all of his willpower to keep himself from cracking up. He maintained a straight face though as the secretary gave them access passes and directions to the morgue.

They walked into the morgue, seeing that a makeup table was already set up for them and pairs of clothes were laid out for the dead. "Dibs on changing her!" Dean called out, pointing to an attractive blonde laying on one of the tables. Sam rolled his eyes walked over to a middle-aged man. He first examined the body, seeing that there was absolutely no wounds on the body except for the ones made by the coroner. Sam took a scalpel from a nearby table and his chest open. It overflowed with red-tainted cotton stuffing. "Dean, come over here and check this out!" Dean looked up from the corpse that he was examining and reluctantly walked over. Dean peered over Sam's shoulder into the gaping wound that Sam had cut.

"Ewwwww! I dare you to touch it!"

"No! Dean, remember, we have work to do!"

"Touch it!"

"Fine!" Sam touched the stuffing to shut Dean up. To his surprise, the stuffing burned his skin upon contact and he had to pull his hand away. "Dean the stuffing is hot!" Dean touched it to verify this new information and upon contact with the blood soaked fluff, drew his hand away quickly in surprise. He then checked his latex gloves to see if they had melted. Nope. They remained intact. To test out if the hot stuffing could melt stuff, Dean took a ziplock bag and dropped it in the stuffing. Nothing happened, the bag did not melt despite the temperature of the cotton it was enveloped in. They then checked all the bodies and found that to be true for all of them. All of the stuffing inside was hot. Just as they were about leave, the secretary walked in to check on them.

"Are you guys near finished yet? Some of the families are here to see their loved ones before the funeral."

"We are just finishing up." Sam improvised, ushering the woman out of the room. Once she left, he turned to his brother. "I think we actually have to do our "job" as morticians."

They did their very best attempt of making the corpses look... well... presentable, Sam's middle-aged man was so covered in concealer, it filled each wrinkle and crevice, making it hard to distinguish facial features. Dean's young woman looked like a circus clown with bright red lips, snow-white skin, and green eyeliner smeared down the sides of her cold, still face. Sam looked down at Dean's handiwork and shuddered. They moved on to an elderly woman and tried to make her look remotely alive. Dean took some purple eyeshadow and the biggest, fattest, fluffiest brush he could find. He smeared the purple powder across her closed eyes, covering both the top and bottom lids and some of her thin, grey eyebrows. Sam picked up a smallish pink tube and opened it, wondering what it was for. He looked at the weird fuzzy brush that came out of the pink-tinted tube and examined it with curiosity plastered across his face. He then smeared some of the syrup on his thumb seeing a pink, gloss wiped on his finger. Realizing what it was for, he turned over the tube, drenching the entire wand in the thick liquid. The wand, including the handle, was now drenched in a pink, sticky goo. On the tile floor sat a puddle of the fallen pink substance. He rubbed the wand horizontally across her slightly parted lips, covering not only her lips, but most of her chin and her philtrum. Satisfied, Sam looked down at the metal tray, seeing what else they had to work with. The two guys examined what appeared to be a torture device for a mouse. It was like a pair of scissors, but instead of having blades, it had a clamp. "Maybe we should just skip the mouse beheader." Dean chuckled, moving on to trying to figure out what the brown pencil was for, assuming it was not for writing purposes.

They finished applying makeup and dressing all the corpses. Dean took an excessively long time dressing the young blonde, and was eventually dragged away by Sam. The two brothers left the morgue, with new information for the case, and got away from the hospital as fast as they could before someone could see their "work."

They drove back to the motel so Sam could piece together what they were dealing with based on the new evidence. They walked into their motel room, Dean immediately sprawled across his bed while Sam turned on his laptop on the desk. The steady clicking of Sam's typed lulled Dean into a trance and he soon fell asleep. While his brother slept, Sam tried to puzzle out why the stuffing was so hot. Recalling what it had felt like under his touch, he remembered it felt like a hot flame. Knowing what fire feels like from years and years of salting and burning bodies, Sam was almost positive that was what the feeling of the stuffing was resembling, fire. He looked up fires within the history of Chesterville, Ohio. More records than Sam could reasonably sift through with a fine toothed comb popped up the screen. Deciding he had to narrow it down a bit, Sam looked up fires within the last 50 years. Still too many. Upon remembering the stuffing inside, and how it resembled stuffed animals. Sam deducted that the most common owner of stuffed animals are small children, specifically girls. Sam searched: Chesterville fire girl. Only one link remained.


End file.
